


keep on walking come what will

by theultimatefangay



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Poetry, basically 158 and 159 had big hadestown energy and inspired this, listen lonely!martin isnt fun okay, oh also jon can sing fight me, they do both get out tho the parallels dont go that far, theyre both eurydice and orpheus at the same time bc i said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 02:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theultimatefangay/pseuds/theultimatefangay
Summary: Martin is lonely and lost. Jon is determined to find him.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	keep on walking come what will

**Author's Note:**

> So basically Hadestown parallels. Thats it thats the fic.

The Archivist Knows all, yet he has no idea why he’s walking through the Lonely. Much less with Martin Blackwood’s voice bouncing around the back of his head. He’d found the tapes of Martin’s poetry after he’d woken up, and they were the only thing that kept him going at this point. A final trace of Martin he could cling to.

Most of the tapes had been mediocre, but there were a few that were ripe with metaphor, where Martin’s voice ebbed and flowed at just the right times, where he truly seemed to feel what he was saying. Those special tapes all seemed to be about the same thing. The same someone. Jon couldn’t say who, as far as he knew Martin was single, and he almost certainly is now.

It’s one of those that Jon starts to recite, voice dampened by the thick fog surrounding him, cutting him off from everything. He falls into the rhythm of it, losing himself, taken over by the words spilling from his mouth. They morph into song as they fall from his lips. He hasn’t sung in years, but it just feels right. To put those already melodic words to a tune.

He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to find Martin. He wants to run to him, to fling himself at him and hold on tight and never let go. He wants to tell him all of the things that he never had the chance to. He wants to run away with him. To try to outrun the end of everything with Martin by his side.

But Jon’s heard the tapes. He’s repeating one of them now. He knows that Martin is already in love. He doesn’t bother considering that Martin might love him, someone like that could never love someone like Jon, and there was no point in getting his hopes up, no matter how much some of the descriptions in the tapes matched Jon.

That’s when he hears it. He can’t See through the fog but he doesn’t need the Eye to know that voice.

Before he can think Jon is running. Sprinting toward the sound of Martin, quietly humming the tune he’d just been singing. Jon finds him before long and for a place meant to keep people apart the Lonely is surprisingly easy to find someone in.

Martin’s voice still sounds distant, even standing right in front of him, and it echoes against the fog. Jon knows that doesn’t make sense, but there isn’t anything else here for it to echo off. There’s a glazed look in Martin’s eyes, as if they were a television screen tuned to static, nothing behind them. He doesn’t even react when Jon jolts to a halt in front of him, momentum almost causing him to trip.

“Go away, Jon.” Martin’s words are startling. Out of place in the still, silent fog. Jon didn’t even realise that he had stopped singing.

“Martin- what? I’m not-” There’s something hot and cold and painful in the pit of Jon’s stomach.

“I said, go away. Leave me alone. It’s better here. Peaceful.” He’s still staring blankly at Jon

“No, I’m not- I need you Martin.” His eyes are burning, but he won’t let the tears fall, not now.

Martin scoffs, and when he speaks his voice is cold. “Need me? You hardly even know me, Jon.” 

The thing claws its way up, curling in his chest, wrapping around his heart and digging in. It pours itself into his lungs, drowning him, and it hurts. He thinks he understands now how Martin had felt all those years, the pain of being dismissed by someone you loved.

Oh.

_Loved_. 

For the first time Jon realizes that, at some point between Prentiss’s attack on the Institute and waking up from the coma, he’d fallen in love with Martin Blackwood.

But Martin is right. Jon doesn’t know him. He doesn’t know his favourite color, the food he eats when he feels terrible, what he does when he’s absolutely exhausted but can’t sleep. Jon doesn’t know anything about Martin. But he wants to. He wants to so bad. He wants to spend hours, days, months, years learning everything there is to know about him. He wants to count all the freckles on Martin’s face and memorize his laugh and hear every word of his poetry and wake up to his smile every morning. Jon doesn’t have the words that could say all of that though. He can’t possibly describe the feeling in his chest, the love and longing and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He wishes he could pull some grand, poetic, world saving proclamation of love out of nowhere. But for all his knowledge all Jon can come up with is “I know.”

“I know, Martin.” Jon can’t quite manage to hold the tears back any longer and one slips down his cheek. “I never made the effort to get to know you. I was horrible to you, honestly. And you- You loved me anyways. Even when I didn’t deserve it. I- I want to know you. And not because of the Beholding wanting knowledge or anything. I want to know you for me. Because- because _I love you too, Martin_.”

Jon pushes his power into those final words, willing him to understand, to know that it’s true. And it works.

The static behind Martin’s eyes clears and it’s like the color comes back into him. There are tears in his eyes as well as he folds into himself, shoulders hunching and arms crossing in front of him.

“Jon you- you came. I was alone and it was so cold and then I could hear you and you- you came.” He sinks to the ground and he looks so vulnerable that it feels like a hand is squeezing Jon’s heart in its fist.

He kneels beside Martin, wrapping his arms around him. “It’s alright, I’m here. I’ve got you, you won't be alone again.”

Martin looks up then, gaze meeting Jon’s. There is so much fear in his eyes. But there is hope too. Hidden among the tears and remnants of fading static, there is hope. “Promise?”

“I promise. Now let’s get out of here.” Jon pulls the both of them to their feet. He doesn’t let go of Martin’s hand. “Come on, I know the way.”

And as the Archivist leads the man he loves, his anchor to humanity, out of the fog, he Knows that he will spend the rest of his life learning every facet of Martin Blackwood.

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you to my best friend Jamie (@watfordwallflower on tumblr) for putting up with me.  
you can also like follow me if you like @its-the-ultimate-fangay. its mostly memes and frequent screaming abt podcasts


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